


Day By Day

by anonymous_sinner



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Good Friend Shane Walsh, Hurt Rick, Lori Grimes Bashing, M/M, POV Alternating, References to Depression, Shane Walsh Lives, Slow Burn, no beta we die like real men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:53:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24518728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_sinner/pseuds/anonymous_sinner
Summary: The version where Rick and Shane don't kill each other, the herd that rages through the Greene Farm comes a few days late, and Rick and Shane are exiled from their group.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes, Maggie Greene/Glenn Rhee
Comments: 12
Kudos: 51





	1. Decisions Can End Lives... or Ruin Families

Rick could feel Shane’s fingers tightly closing around his throat. His vision was swimming with black dots now, and he knew he’d be dead soon if he didn’t do _something_. That was when Shane started yelling, shouting for the whole world to hear.  “You know Rick, this group would be so much stronger without  _ you.  _ Hell, your whole family would be better, too. Carl would finally have a strong father figure, Lori would have someone strong to protect her, and that baby? Well, we all know who’s it is anyways.”  It’s safe to say Rick was angry. Even in his vulnerable, oxygen-lacking position, Rick could feel the steam pouring out of his ears.

Before he knew what was even happening, Ricks knee swung up and kicked itself into Shane crotch. Rick winced at the muscles he pulled, but sighed in relief when he could breathe again. Now Rick was on top of Shane, punching him, over, and over, and _over_ again. Rick wouldn’t stop until Shane’s face and the dirt were conjoined. Rick wouldn’t stop until there wasn't a threat of Shane taking over, of Shane taking Lori, of Shane taking  _ his son _ or even that baby away from him. That is, until he could feel himself be pulled away by a set of strong arms.  His first thought was that a walker had come up from behind, but he couldn’t hear any growling, just more yelling. Rick looked away from Shane’s soon-to-be scarred face to see who had pulled him away. And Rick’s eyes met with the cold glare of none other than Daryl, who was holding him as far away from Shane as possible. Shane, who was being held away by T-Dog, was spitting blood and yelling at Rick.

Before the two could even  _ attempt  _ to fight their way out of their groups’ grasp, they were being hauled towards the Greene house. As soon as the front door was in sight, Rick could see the faces of the other members of his group. And he could feel a tattoo of shame pierce his heart when he saw Carl sobbing into Lori, who looked stricken herself. Rick tried to mouth a ‘I’m so sorry’ to his wife and son, but was too-quickly tugged into the house.

The other’s soon piled in behind them, creating a small circle in front of Rick and Shane, who were still being held so they wouldn’t break into another death-match right then and there. “Can I trust you two not to fight again if we let you go?” Daryl spat. Rick just nodded, and couldn’t be bothered to look at Shane’s to see his response, feeling too shitty to even _blink_. Had Rick really tried to kill his best friend of over 20 years over some dumb words? He had tried to kill who was practically Carl’s Uncle and the man who may or may not be the mother to Lori’s child? Sure, Rick was no scientist, but even he knew the odds of it not being his.

Then, Rick could feel himself be let go of. And now T-Dog and Daryl were standing with the group, muttering along with them. Rick tried to listen in, to decipher what was being said, but they were too quiet. And it didn’t help that Rick’s concentration was being cracked by the skull-piercing glare that Shane was sending his way. But they both knew Shane had enough smarts not to fight it out in front of the kids and the women.

The room was silent, and Rick and Shane were now being stared down by their family and group members. “Can one of you explain what your little tousle was about?” Daryl grunted.  “I… I don’t know. One minute I was walking with Shane, looking for Randall, then he had me in a choke hold.” Rick stuttered, trying to recall the events that happened not even half an hour ago. 

“We found Randall, he was dead. Neck snapped, and yet he was  _ turned. _ ” Glenn shuddered. With those words Rick was immediately brought back to the CDC, Jenner’s words replaying in his head. If there was any time to reveal this, it had to be now.  “Jenner, he said that we don’t have to be bitten to turn. We’re all infected with the virus, we all turn when we die.” Rick spoke. And as if it was some telenovela, everyone gasped or started yelling.

“Stop," Hershel said, holding his hand up in an attempt to silence the group. "It won’t do us any good drawing walkers in, we don’t even have any guards up. What difference does this make anyway?” Herschel said. Andrea just scoffed at the older man, clearly offended by the words that came out of his mouth.  “What do you mean ‘ _ what difference does it make _ ’? Now it means turning is inevitable, it means we’re all just ticking time-bombs. Hell, we could all turn even  _ without  _ dying in just a few days! And Rick didn’t even tell us!” 

If Shane had thought the yelling was loud, the silence was worse. “That doesn’t answer the question about why you two tried to kill each other.” Daryl snapped again. Shane looked down cast, finally coming down from his high. Literally. The crystal meth he had stolen from Merle apparently hadn’t agreed with him. Shane now knew he wasn’t a happy junkie.  “I killed Randall. The fucker was talking about  _ raping  _ the women and  _ killing  _ the kids. You really thought I was gonna take that? I got mad, I didn't mean to kill him. Then I… I tried ‘ta kill Rick because I… I started thinkin’ that if that had actually happened, maybe he couldn’t’ve protected them. Then, next thing I knew I had the chance to take over, to… to  _ get rid of him _ . So I took it.” Shane shuddered, his own actions making him nauseous.

“Why?’ Lori sobbed, covering Carl’s ears. Shane just turned his gaze away, not wanting to admit to his childish decisions. But he had to, he had killed a man and then almost killed his life-time best friend. “When we were in the quarry, I stole sum’ of Merle meth. Thought it’d help take the edge off, make the ending of the world a lot less fucky. Turns out it just made me go on a rampage…” Shane muttered, trying his best to ignore Rick’s stunned look.

Before he could even put together his next thought, he felt a fist collide with his jaw for what felt like the hundredth time that night, and it probably was. Turns out, the fist belonged to Daryl, which was warranted. He  _ had  _ stolen his presumably-dead brother’s stash of meth. “I… I don’t know what to say. You’re both unstable, I don’t want either of you near me or near Carl. You’ve gone off the rails.” Lori cried, holding Carl tighter beside her. Carl was sobbing into her side, and it broke Rick's heart eight more times.

“I agree, I don’t want you near my girls or Jimmy. I don’t want you on my farm, either of you.” Hershel nodded. Rick and Shane were both dazed, both too numb to register what was happening. Rick’s own family had practically disowned him, he couldn’t even speak to his son, and neither could Shane. And now their only safe-place in the apocalypse was booting them out. Rick didn’t even bother looking around the room, he already knew the rest of the group agreed.

“I… I understand. We’ll both go. Lori, Carl I’m so sorry, I love you both, god knows I do. Please, stay safe… please… oh god... please.” Rick cried, his words coming out in broken pieces. Yet, nobody around had any reason to feel bad for either of them men. “You have twenty minutes to pack your things, you can take a car as well. Then, I never want to see you again.” Herschel spoke, anger laced into his speech.


	2. Brothers By Bond, Not Blood

As it turns out, when you travel light in the apocalypse, it doesn’t take long to pack your things. Rick couldn’t help but think about how many things he’d miss about his group. He never noticed how much he loved how chipper Carol was in the morning, or Hershel saying grace during shared meals, or Andrea’s sharp sarcasm, or Beth’s singing. Rick was never one to notice the little things, not until they were gone.

Shane was the same way. But that wasn’t what the man was thinking about. Shane was thinking about how much he had fucked up. How he had cost not only himself a place in a family, but he had inadvertently caused Rick to lose his  _ actual  _ family. His recklessness had been his downfall, and he took one of the only close friends he ever had down with him. Shane was determined to help Rick through whatever hell the apocalypse threw their way. He was determined to make this  _ right _ , because he wasn’t going to do this ever again.

Soon enough the two men were done packing, their duffel bags not nearly filled fully. They both only had a few pairs of shirts, two pairs of pants and a few medical items along with some food and personal items. Not nearly enough food to keep them alive for more than a few days, but they had enough wits to know that asking for more would get them legitimately killed.

True to his word, Herschel did provide them with a car. When they made their way to the dusted red pick-up, there was nobody waiting for them. No goodbye’s,  _ nothing _ . So when the two got into the car, fresh tears glistening in their eyes, did they truly understand that they were no longer a part of the group. 

Shane was the one who ended up in the driver’s seat, taking notice of who more visibly lost Rick was than he was. And Shane was not about to end up dying in a car crash in the motherfucking Zombie-Apocalypse. “Where do we even go?” Shane asked Rick, not really expecting an answer. Shane watched as Rick turned the question around in his head before mumbling, “The quarry. It’s the only place we know we can go.”

Shane nodded before starting the truck, taking a last glance out of the rearview mirror before turning out onto the road. The drive was long and quiet, the only sound filling up the truck were the slight sniffles coming from Rick. Shane could feel his heart in his shoes, he had to fix this, he had to make him feel better. 

~~~~

So when the two go to the quarry, instead of going to sleep, Shane put his foot down. “Rick, man, we need to talk.” He spoke, softly as possible so he wouldn’t spook his friend. Rick just nodded, and sat down next to Shane in the bed of the truck. “I don’t know how to start, all I know is that I fucked up. I cost you your whole family Rick, I couldn’t have done worse. Except maybe for the part where I tried to kill you…. Why haven’t you killed me yet?” Shane whispered, silent tears rolling down his cheek. Rick glanced at his friend, sighing from what could either be anger or sadness. “I haven’t killed you because you’re my best friend, and there’s no point in killing someone over a few venomous words. If my family and our group were so quick to let us go… did they even care?” Rick whispered back.

And that was something to think about. Had anyone really cared about the two cops? Nobody seemed to mind all that much when Daryl had attacked Rick with a knife when they lost Merle with Atlanta. Daryl hadn’t been doing it to spook Rick either, he’d been aiming for the throat. And if Rick hadn’t moved out of the way, he’d have bled out all on the ground, right where he was standing right now. So how was Shane and Rick fighting any different from them? Nobody had tried to help the two cops when they were trying not to get sliced up by the younger Dixon.

Shane’s eyes softened at the words his friend had said. “No, they didn’t Rick. I want to comfort you, I want to tell you otherwise, but I don’t want to lie to you. I’m also not going to lie when I say I’ve been  _ horrible  _ to you since you came back, hell during this  _ whole  _ thing. But I’m going to change, I’m going to change brother, I can promise you that. And those assholes will  _ never  _ hurt you like that again,  _ I’ll  _ never hurt you like that again. But we have to talk to each other, no matter how bad the shit is. No matter how much it’ll ‘hurt’ our feelings,  **just say it** .” Shane said, giving Rick a solemn look.

Rick nodded, “Yeah… yeah we have to talk. I know for a fact neither of us are good at that, but we’ve known each other long enough that it won’t be awkward.” Shane huffed a little laugh out at that. They’d known each other their whole lives, so of course it wouldn’t be weird. Then, without warning, Shane pulled Rick into a hug. Trying to give the man all the happiness he had taken away with his bad decisions. This man was his brother, and Shane would do anything not to fuck it up again.

Rick sniffled into Shane’s shoulder. Letting the sobs take over his body, not caring about the dampness he was leaving on his friend’s shirt. It was time that they acted like adults. It was the apocalypse for Pete’s sake, it was time to let past actions stay in the past. Whatever had happened between them in the last few weeks was erased, they couldn’t afford to have it otherwise.

“You said we could say anything, right?” Rick asked, peeling himself out of Shane’s arms. Shane just nodded, quirking his eyebrow as to show he was listening. Rick tried his hardest not to smile but said, “Will you take the first watch?” His voice was still a little wobbly from crying, but the attempt at humor was still evident. Shane chuckled and nodded, “Sure, I’ll take first watch. We all know Rick Grimes needs his beauty sleep.”

So that was exactly what happened. Shane hopped out of the truck bed, and walked over to the little fire pit that had been left over from the group’s past residency at the quarry, and surprisingly hadn’t been destroyed by walkers. Also surprisingly, there were enough twigs and pieces of bark in the immediate area so Shane could start a fire. And if Shane had ‘accidentally’ forgotten to wake Rick up to take over watch, well then that was nobody’s problem but his own.


	3. Old Faces, Poor Places

The morning after the farm was met with sweltering heat and bright light. Since the beginning of the apocalypse, Rick hadn’t been awoken peacefully, let alone by the sun’s rays. Unless you count the hospital, but that was more confusedly coming out of a coma than waking up peacefully. Pulling himself off of the now heated metal bed of the truck, he could see Shane, making a perimeter around the truck. A few stray walkers lay dead on the ground, obviously taken out with a silent, close-range weapon. And that told Rick they were safe, and not enough walkers had wandered in for a gun to be used.

“You know, I said I wanted you to take _first_ watch, not the whole damn night.” Rick said, shooting an amused glance at Shane who was walking towards where Rick was sitting. Shane just chuckled, which slowly morphed into a yawn. “Yeah well, you looked like you needed your sleep. You can drive though, because we can’t stay here, it’s too open.” Shane remarked, nodding to the walkers Rick had noticed earlier. Rick nodded in agreement, “Where do we go? We need a place to rest up 'fer a while, someplace that hasn’t been looted till it was dry.” Rick spoke, scratching at the slight stubble on his face.

“I was thinking of headin’ back to Kings County, that way we both have familiar ground. I know ‘fer a fact I have some cans of food layin’ around at least some part of my house.” Shane replied. Rick just nodded again, hopping off the bed. He made a grab for the duffel he had been using as a pillow and pulled out a t-shirt and jeans, before walking down to the quarry. Soon he could see his memories of Carl hunting for frogs in the blue waters, the ladies washing clothes and Andrea and Amy fishing. It all seemed like eons ago, worlds away from the lonely present that Rick and Shane were facing now. 

After the morning washing up, the two men climbed into the truck. Rick eyed the fuel meter warily, noting that it wasn’t enough to get to Kings County. “We need more fuel, I say we head back to the highway to siphon some more. Herschel left some empty jerry cans in the seats in the back; we can keep the gas in them.” Rick drawl, throwing an arm behind himself to point to the cans. Shane grimaced in response to going back to the highway. That’s where they had lost Sophia, after all. But he agreed nonetheless. And so that’s where they set off to, putting even more distance between themselves and their ex-group.

The highway was uneventful to say the last. They had gotten spooked by a few car-trapped walkers, but that was mostly it. They did, however, manage to scavenge a few more cans, clothes and batteries for their flashlights. Before leaving with their now stocked gas tank (and three more filled cans) they came across the message the group left more Sophia. Seeing it after seeing _Sophia_ hurt. It hurt knowing a child was dead, that she wouldn’t be held anymore, or play anymore, or eat candy, _nothing_ ; just darkness. Both Rick and Shane had agreed to take a few minutes of silence for the girl, it’s what she had deserved. But then they were back on the road, back home.

~~~~

Shane’s house hadn’t changed, it had barely even been looted. Although it was clear that someone had been through here, they seemed to be in a hurry and hadn’t taken everything. Shane and Rick made their rounds of the hounds, picking up more bags to hold their steadily increasing stash. More clothes, boxers, better walking shoes, hidden guns and hunting knives, granola bars, canned fruits and vegetables and even some medication. 

It was looking up, and Rick was too afraid to think of when it would all crash down. Before he left Shane’s bedroom, a familiar object caught his eye. A sheriffs hat, an exact copy of the one Rick had… the one he left at the farm. Oh well, it’s not like he was a deputy anymore, so he didn't really need the uniform anymore. Rick flicked his eyes slightly to the right of the hat, seeing a phonograph that contained Rick and Shane holding Carl, who couldn’t have been more than eight at the time, during a career day from years ago. Rick smiled sadly at the photo, before gingerly placing it in his backpack, wrapping it in a shirt.

Rick walked down the stairs to meet Shane, who had been scouting his basement for any old crap that could help them survive. Shane motioned for Rick to come over to him near the table where he had laid out all the weapons they gained. **A small revolver, three hunting knives, two flare guns, a machete, an axe, two silencers and a tactical shovel.** So far, it wasn’t much for long-range combat, but neither of them could complain. They decided that Shane would get the pistol, they would both take a hunting knife (Shane would take two because he actually _knew how to hunt_ ), a flare gun each, Rick would get the machete, Shane would get the axe, a silencer each and Shane would take the shovel.

They weren’t armed to the teeth, but it was good enough. Putting their weapons away, Shane gave his house a final once-over. Before gasping and almost running to his couch. Rick raised his eyebrows in question to his friend until he saw what hung _over_ the couch. They were both photos, one was of Shane’s family during his mother’s birthday, and the other was of the Kings County Sheriff’s Department during one of their holiday outings. “There is uh, a photo of You, Carl and I in my bedroom if you want it.” Shane offered before Rick laughed. “I already grabbed it.” Rick smiled.

Then they were gone, making their way downtown. That is, until they saw a walker walk into a house, except it was with more purpose rather than wandering, like there was _food_ . “I think there’s someone in that house.” Rick said, pointing to the house he was paused in front of. “What if they’re bad people, Rick.” Shane offered, always the nihilist. Rick shook his head, his gut told him otherwise. “It could also be someone we _know_. C’mon.” Rick said hurriedly, before speed walking into the house.

He looked around quickly, eye jumping from object to object. That is until he saw the walker go around the corner. Rick went behind it, trying not to catch it’s attention. And Rick’s heart almost stopped when he saw the walker push it’s undead hands out towards a child who was standing in front of an open door to what seemed to be the basement. Rick was sure he had never moved faster in his life as he did when he plunged his newly gained machete into the head of the walker. 

The child’s head whipped around to look at Rick, eyes bulging when he saw him. “Rick?!” Duane asked incredulously. Rick took in the features of the both, not looking much different from the week he had seen him previously. Soon he found his eyes landing on the walker, _the walker who was once his mother_. Shane stood beside Rick, looking dumbfounded and confused. “Do you know this kid Rick?” Shane asked. “Yeah,” Rick replied, “His dad saved me when I woke up from my coma. I could’ve been walker chow on my first day of the apocalypse if not for this kid’s dad. Where is he, by the way?” Rick asked, focusing his eyes on Duane who was now visibly shaken

“Duane, are you alright?” Rick asked, his tone emanating the same one he would’ve used on Carl if he was upset. “I… I could’ve died. My own ma’ could’ve killed me, I… I could’ve been dead…” The boy repeated. Rick could feel his gut drop, this was no place for any child. He should be outside, playing around in the Georgia sun, not worrying if he was going to be eaten alive. “Well, you’re _not_ . _Hey_ , you aren’t going to die. Not as long as I’m here, alright? You’re safe Duane. You’re here with me, in this house, where you are now **safe**.” Rick repeated, trying to get his words to penetrate through whatever daze seemed to come over the boy.

Duane nodded, sighing slightly. “My dad, he’s in the basement.” Duane answered, looking up at Rick with teary eyes. Rick nodded at him, “Alright, Duane, I’d like you to meet my good friend Shane Walsh. I’m going to go and talk to your dad, alright? Shane will take good care of you. And if he doesn’t, you can throw this can of pea soup at him.” Rick humoured, picking up a discarded can of frankly _disgusting_ pea soup, apocalypse or not this wasn’t even worth feeding to pigs.

Shane nodded at Rick and then at Duane as Rick started his descent down the old stairs. “Duane?” Morgan’s familiar voice rang. “Not Duane, it’s Rick, Rick Grimes.” Rick spoke, hoping the man would remember him. Morgan soon put down whatever he was holding in favour of resting his hand on the holster of his gun, before walking out from the shield he was behind. “Rick? It’s really you?” Morgan asked, eyebrows raising to practically his hairline. “Yeah, it’s me. I came with a friend, Shane Walsh. I’ve known him since I was in a crib, don’t worry, he’s one of the good ones.” Rick reassured. Morgan just nodded before smiling “Hell, I can’t believe you lived.”

Rick laughed, “I did. I found my family too, that is, until I found myself kicked out of my group.” Morgan was obviously interested as to _why_ Rick had been kicked out, but didn’t push further. “How’s Duane doing upstairs?” Morgan asked, trying to change the subject for Rick’s sake. “Actually, there’s something you should know. Don’t worry Duane’s perfectly fine, but he almost wasn’t. His uh… his mom found its way into the house, if me and Shane hadn’t been here when we were, this could’ve been a very different conversation.” Rick noted, he was using his cop voice, a force of habit really.

Morgan’s eyes hardened before clapping Rick on the shoulder and briskly making his way up the stairs until he was at the top and face to face with his son Morgan quickly pulled the boy into his arms and tried his best to comfort both his son, and himself. He took a quick glance and saw the now dead corpse of his undead wife, and hugged the boy tighter. Morgan did let go after about a solid minute of hugging to address the other man in the room. “Morgan Jones.” Morgan said, holding his hand out. Shane took his hand and shook it, “Shane Walsh, please to meet you.” 


	4. New Additions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not happy with this chapter, but here it is anyway

“I think we should stick together, there's safety in numbers.” Rick reasoned. It was currently three hours after Duane’s near-infection experience, and everyone had agreed they should talk about what to do next. Sadly, nobody could come to a conclusion in good time, so it had turned into a full blown, long-ass, discussion. “I agree, but I also  _ disagree _ . Sometimes groups are too hard to travel quickly in, and too hard to provide for.” Morgan reasoned. Shane nodded, “Yes, that’s true. Our group from Atlanta was anything but quiet, but  _ we’re  _ quiet. Both me an’ Rick are, well, _were_ trained officers, so we know our way around weapons and the area. I don’t know what you worked as before the world ended, but from what I’ve heard you sound like a good survivor.” Shane responded, running a hand through his closely buzzed hair.

“I think we should stick together dad.” Duane said quietly, looking at Morgan. Morgan looked at his son in turn, before nodding a few long seconds later. “Alright, then it’s settled. We’ll come wit’ y’all.” Morgan said, a smile ghosting his lips. Rick smiled happily at the two Jones men before standing up from the dining room table. “Okay, we leave in the morning.”

~~~~~

Rick never expected Morgan to be the kind of man to wake up late, Rick had thought of him to be an early riser type. Apparently, not everyone shared Rick and Shane’s trait of waking up the second the sun peeked through the hills. Rick had been the one to take the early morning watch today, so when most people in the house started to stir, he was quite surprised to see Duane as the first one to wake up. What didn’t surprise Rick, however, was Shane stumbling along not long after him. The man was cleaned up, a new t-shirt on, but had neglected changing his pants.

“So Duane, tell me a bit about yourself.” Shane said, attempting to get to know the boy better. He had always been good with kids, maybe not adults, but kids definitely.  “Well, I’m ten. I like comic books, I used to go to church with my ma’ and dad and… I used to go to ballroom dancing classes with my ma’.” Duane said, smiling. Shane smirked back at him, “Ballroom dancing, huh? I bet you were real good at that. I couldn’t ever do that, I’ve got myself two left feet.” Shane joked. 

Rick smiled. Really grateful he had disposed of the walker body at the mention of Duane’s mom. Hopefully it wouldn’t trigger any painful memories for the boy. “Yeah you do. Remember when you tried to dance with that girl at prom? You nearly trampled her.” Rick spoke, shooting an amused glance at Shane.  “Hey it’s not my fault she was moving so fast!” Shane defended. This caused Duane to start laughing, obviously trying to stay quiet. This made the two ex-cops smile, their mission of trying to cheer the boy up accomplished. “Where’s Morgan? It’s nearly nine.” Rick asked. Duane laughed again, “He’s probably still sleeping, I’ll go and get him.” Duane spoke, making his way over to the stairs and going back up.

Only ten minutes later were Morgan and Duane coming down the stairs, luggage in hand. “Alright. We can’t stay here much longer, it’s too open.” Said Morgan, obviously hinting at the incident from yesterday. “Yeah, we can’t. We were going to go downtown, try and see what else we can scavenge.” Rick said, already mapping out some plans in his head. Morgan nodded in agreement, “Me and Duane were about to head downtown. Any idea of where to go after that?” Morgan asked.  “I was thinking of checking out Fort Benning, it’d be smart to find a place with a lot of weapons.” Rick spoke, scratching at his chin.

Once Rick got the okay from Morgan, they left the old house and piled into Rick and Shane’s pickup. But when they got downtown, they found it almost fully looted. “I guess people were quicker than us…” Shane mumbled, causing sounds of agreement echo through the group. “It’s a good thing me an’ Shane were cops, because we still remember where all the shop owners stashed their guns.” Rick reassured, trying to raise morale. So the group got to work finding what they could. They did, in fact, find those stashed guns Rick and Shane had signed the permits for before the world ended.

~~~~

In the end the group ended up with more food than medication, and more medication than weapons. They now had about 27 more cans of food, some crackers, a few bottles of ibuprofen, Icy Hot, Aspirin, two shot guns, another machete and a pistol along with about 5 boxes of bullets to go with that pistol. Seriously, who was in that much danger in  _ Kings County  _ that they needed  _ five  _ whole boxes of bullets? It amazed Shane how paranoid people could be.

“This had better be enough for us to get by for a few weeks.” Shane mumbled, obviously pissed at their lack of success. Rick agreed, “I wish it were but we all know it ain’t gonna be. We’re gonna have to hit up a few different towns. Not here though, I think this is as good as it’s gonna get here.”  “We can join our piles together. I trust y’all enough to take your share and only that. That way we have more. Anyone know how to hunt?” Morgan asked, smirking a little. Shane scoffed lightly, “I do, but I sure as hell ain’t as good as them Dixon brothers.” Rick laughed a little,    
“Yeah, Daryl could hunt good, huh?” Morgan was obviously confused at the mention of the Dixon brother, not sharing the same experiences as the two. 

Duane was especially happy though, as he had found a small stack of comics that would add barely any weight in his backpack. This did cheer the older men up from the disappointment of their low provisions, as it was important that they keep Duane a child as long as possible. It reminded Rick a lot of Carl, and he knew that his son would have acted the exact same way as Duane had. And then Rick was hit with a wave of sadness all over again. And he prayed to whatever god that was out there, that Carl and Lori were happy and healthy at the Greene Farm.


	5. The Downfall of The Greene Farm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Atlanta group + the Greenes

As it turns out, Rick’s family was not happy and safe at the Greene farm. Well, at least not for long. Currently, Daryl was perched on the balcony of the attic in the farm. It was the perfect spot for keeping watch for groups of walkers coming towards the farm. But he never expected this, a massive group of walkers heading straight for them, they couldn’t have more than twenty minutes till they were swarmed. So Daryl screamed as loud as he could, “Herd!” And hauled ass down the steps of the house. Taking everything he could and shoving it into a bag. He shouted again, trying to get everyone in the house moving.

Soon Hershel ran up the stairs to find Daryl, “Did you say there was a _herd_ ?” Hershel asked, anxiety flowing through his body like water in the ocean. “Yeah, get everyone packin’, we have about fifteen minutes till we’re _food_.” Daryl hissed hurriedly, shoving the last of the medication bottles into his bag. Herschel seemed to shut down for a minute before jumping back into gear, yelling for his family to start packing only the essentials.

Daryl booked it outside, yelling his throat raw that they had to go. “Glenn!” Daryl shouted. Glenn jogged from his position helping Lori pack over to Daryl. In the days that Rick and Shane had been kicked out, Glenn had started taking the reins of the group, and Daryl acted as his right hand. “I need you to go get the cars and RV together, take everyone’s stuff. Make sure we have enough gas to get us _far_.” Daryl said hastily before making his way over to the Grimes tent.

“Are you two almost done packing?” Daryl asked, picking their full duffels up. Lori nodded, placing a hand on the sheriffs hat on her son’s head. “First we lose dad, now the farm?” Carl sniffled. Daryl couldn’t help but feel bad for the kid, but there was no time for tears. “I know, kid, but we have to go. Go on and make your way towards the driveway.” Daryl said, looking at Lori before leaving the tent.

Before he knew it, the group was packed and ready to leave. It was gut-wrenching to say the least. Daryl had taken a seat in the RV along with Lori, Carl, and Glenn. Glenn, who was currently driving the RV, adopted a hardened look in his eyes. The man was obviously trying to act as a ‘replacement’ for Rick, desperately trying to keep his group stable with steady hands and confident eyes. “We’re heading to the highway to regroup, you guys can relax for a little while.” Glenn spoke, pulling out of the gravel driveway.

In the rearview mirror, Daryl could see three cars following closely behind. After the highway, Daryl didn’t know what was going to happen. How were they possibly going to find a place that was half as secure as the farm? Well, the answer was short: they wouldn’t. Daryl tried not to question Glenn too much, though, after all he was still a kid. “Daryl, do you think my dad and Shane got caught in the herd?” Carl questioned innocently, tears brimming his eyes.

Daryl turned around to face the kid, and _damn_ was that a bad choice. Carl was standing next to Lori, who was currently sitting, his dad’s hat almost falling over his face. But the kid looked destroyed, and there Lori sat, doing absolutely nothing to comfort her son. But sitting there, looking helpless. She didn’t even hug him, invite him to sit, brush the hair that was falling in his eyes away, _nothing_. And that made Daryl’s blood boil. So, he would take care of the kid.

Daryl knelt in front of Carl, getting down to the boy’s eye level. The hunter then took the hat off the boy’s head and tilted his chin up to make him look Daryl in the eyes. “Now you listen to me and you listen good, okay? Your dad is a strong man, and so is Shane. I need you to trust me when I say your dad will be _just fine_. Can you do that?” Daryl asked the both, looking him dead in the eyes. Daryl never considered himself a person to comfort a child, but apparently he was when it came to this kid.

Carl just nodded and sniffled, looking at Daryl again with his eyes that looked strikingly like Rick’s. Carl then went to sit with his helpless looking mother, and Daryl returned to the seat up front next to Glenn. Trying to keep his voice down, Daryl asked, “After the highway, where do we go? We can’t even stay there for the night, it’s probably the most dangerous place to be besides the farm.” Glenn sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. “I was thinking the quarry, it's still open, but at least it’s familiar territory. The herds already gone through it, and the chances are low that they’ll suddenly turn around. As long as we have at least three people on watch at all times, we’ll be okay.” Glenn reasoned. Daryl nodded, thinking about the plan itself. It was safe, though-out enough, but his question still hadn’t really been answered.

“That sounds like a good plan for now, but _only_ for now _._ Lori is pregnant, and we need a place for her to have that baby safely. Preferably a clean place that we won’t have to leave straight after.” Daryl reasoned. Glenn nodded and looked to be in deep thought for a few minutes before saying, “Dale left a map in the glove box, try and see if you can find someplace that would be secure.” Daryl reached and pulled the box open, finding the map under piles of old paperwork.

Daryl scanned the map thoroughly, keeping an eye out for particularly supplies-high buildings. He immediately ruled out any building close to Atlanta, but also anything deep in the woods. So Daryl thought about places like Fort Benning, but then remembered mentions of Fort Benning acting as a safe-zone. So it was probably high in walkers, not something they needed with fairly unskilled fighters and a pregnant woman; another place ruled out. Then his eyes landed on something else; a prison. A place where all the walkers would be locked in cells, a place with a large, fenced-in courtyard perfect for crops. A place with secure rooms in case it ever got breached and _real_ watch towers. It was perfect.

“I think I found it,” Daryl said, pointing to the words that read **WEST GEORGIA CORRECTIONAL FACILITY.** Glenn glanced over quickly, trying not to take his eyes off the road for too long. The younger man grinned happily, now buzzing in his seat. “A prison, huh. I would’ve never thought a prison would work, but it makes perfect sense. Won’t it be overrun though?” Glenn questioned. Daryl shook his head, “Nah man, think about it. The only walkers would be trapped in cells or there might be a few guards wandering around. I’m telling you man, this place is a gold mine.” Daryl said, trying to keep his voice down so as to not wake the sleeping Carl. Glenn nodded, and started smiling again.

~~~~

Not even 40 minutes later were they finally back at the highway. They all stood in silence as they stood in front of Sophia’s car, the food on top of the still intact. Carol sniffed and dried a little, but made the decision that they’d need all the food they could get and took the cans and bottles of juice and Gatorade and stowed them in her bag. Glenn spoke, “Alright, I want two teams of two to go around and see what we can find. Everyone else stays in the RV, we’re not having a repeat of last time. If you need help, you run your way back over here. And if you get bit, well, you know what to do.” The speech was grim, there was no denying it. But Glenn absolutely refused to haul around a ticking-time bomb.

Everyone nodded before splitting up into their groups. Group 1 was Glenn and Maggie and Group 2 was T-Dog and Daryl, which left everyone else to squeeze their way into the tight RV. It wasn’t ideal in any way, shape or form, but at least then nobody was spread out. The two groups searched for gas, finding most of the cars were already empty, so they had to hop over the median of the highway to try the other cars. The cars on the side of the RV also seemed to be more looted than before, which wasn’t really surprising. It’d be silly to think that nobody had come through here, but it did make Glenn nervous to think _what kind of people_ had gone through the highway.

All in all, they ended with 20 more cans of food, two boxes of pasta, three jugs of water that were about a gallon each, some feminine products, a shotgun and three pistols. Weapons were always good, but apparently nobody had thought to pack ammo, which was probably the most crucial part of a gun. Then, the group set out for the quarry to spend the night.

The whole thing felt… strangely nostalgic. It’s not like the group associated _positive_ memories with the quarry, but they weren’t all bad. It's where the group had first met, it’s where Sophia had still been alive and it’s where Ed had died. Not all of the memories were bad, especially when Rick had found his family. The family he had been ripped away from only weeks later. Glenn shook his head, he didn’t want to think about that. He stood firm in his decision that Rick and Shane were both unstable. 

Getting out of the parked RV, Glenn stretched out his legs. His joints popping a bit too much for someone in their mid twenties. They had parked their cars in the same perimeter formation as before, although not it was much smaller. Glenn walked over to the old fire pit, noticing it had recently been lit. He also noted the newly put down walker corpses that were sporadically laying around the area. Someone had definitely been there, where they were good or bad, Glenn didn’t know. 

“Daryl and I have been thinking of where we can go next. We’ve settled on the West Georgia Correctional Facility, that place would be chock-full of supplies and probably the safest place we could be.” Glenn said, trying to sell the group on the idea. No complaints arose, that is, until Hershel spoke up. “Before the news, well… stopped existing they did a report on that place. They talked about a riot where the prisoners tried to take over the kitchen and they killed a fair few guards, and the guards killed a lot of the prisoners. It started an outbreak in the prison. I remember praying for them…” Herschel said sadly. 

Great, just when things were looking up, it plummeted down. But there was no way Glenn was giving up that prison, if they ended up clearing it out, it would be perfect. “Well, then we _take_ it. Just because there are walkers there, that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be good. We just have to come up with a plan.” Glenn spoke, confidence rising in his voice. Daryl and Maggie stood beside him, his right hand man and left hand man, he had people standing beside him. And as long as he had these people, they’d be safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is going to be some major plot divergence, as shown through.... well this whole thing. I'm also going to point out that while Dale is in fact dead, Jimmy and Patricia are alive. Glenn, being the new leader, is going to make very different decisions than Rick did in cannon, which will lead to different outcomes for this group. as well as for Rick and Shane. Just thought I should put in a disclaimer that if you aren't in for some MAJOR plot divergence, this, sadly, isn't the right fic for you.


	6. No Mercy for The Untrustworthy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending of this chapter is rushed, and I'm not proud with how it ended. I just had a last minute change of heart with a certain character and somehow had to squeeze the changes in. So uh.... whoops I guess.

After two days at the quarry, the group finally made their way over to the prison. The ride itself took about an hour, so it was a good distance away from the herd of walkers. Pulling up to the gate, they got out of their cars and assessed the situation. Currently, it looked like there were about forty walkers in the courtyard, but the fenced-in perimeter around it was empty. So Glenn cut the fence open, motioning for everyone to get inside.

Once they had all miraculously squeezed their way through the little hole in the fence, Glenn laced a rope through the links in the fence, before tying it in a secure knot. Glenn had never been more grateful for being a boy scout in his youth than in the apocalypse. Before long, they had a strategy to take out the walkers that would be the safest. Their plan was to call the attention of the walkers, and lure them over to where they could easily sink a knife, sharpened stick or any other short close-range weapon through the fence.

Soon enough they made their way inside of the courtyard, quickly noticing the walkers that occupied the area around the building of the prison… who also happened to be fenced in. Using the same strategy as before, they took care of another thirty-odd walkers and pulled them out from behind the fence. Disposing them into the pile they had made of the walkers from the yard.

It's safe to say it wasn’t easy, and it left Glenn’s arms tired as all hell. It created a large pile of walkers to amass. And when the group was sure that there were no walkers in the immediate area, they relaxed. “What do we do with the walkers?” Jimmy asked, wiping the sweat that had pooled on his forehead. “We could always dig a pit, then chuck ‘em in there. That way when we burn ‘em it won’t be as visible.” Daryl offered, a little breathy from working in the sun. Glenn nodded, it was a good idea, but he knew he was going to regret agreeing later when his arms would feel like jello.

Using the old shovels they had managed to salvage from the farm, they got to digging. The group had decided to make the pit in an area farther away from the center of the yard so as to not ruin the soil too much. Praying that there weren't any electrical or sewage lines, Glenn sunk his shovel into the earth. And then he did it again, and again, and again until Glenn was pretty sure his arms would fall off if he moved them ever again. But by then, the pit was done, and the Korean man was especially glad they had decided to haul the bodies over to their planned area before shoveling.

  
  


Chucking the walkers into the pit (after checking for weapons or lighters), Daryl sprinkled as little gasoline as it would take to get the fire started, then chucked a match into the pit. It went up soon after, the scent of burning flesh tainting the air, but surprisingly not ruining Glenn’s appetite. So the working group made their way to where Carol and Patricia sat cooking soup over a fire. As sweaty as he was, even Glenn could recognize that it was going to start getting colder soon, and they’d need to find a way to stay warm inside the prison. But that was getting ahead of himself, right now, the only thing that mattered was eating soup with his family.

~~~~

The day after burning the walkers, Glenn, Andrea, Daryl, T-Dog, Maggie, and Carol made their way into the prison. They had taken as many weapons they could carry inside, most of which were silent. It took both Daryl and T-Dog to successfully break the door in, where they were promptly met with two walkers. Both of which were taken out by Daryl. Glenn walked further forward, leading the group. So far, it seemed that this room was clear, Glenn thought, made his way up the stops to the tiny glass box in front of what seemed to be a recreational area for that specific cell block. Peering through the bar of the door, he couldn’t see any walkers in that room either.

It was strange, and worrying. That means that all of the walkers were wandering through the building, uncontained. Glenn sighed, and pulled the keys out of the pocket of the dead man in the glass box, and unlocked the door. Making his way inside, Glenn surveyed the area. Shelves for food, lockers for coats, tables for eating, mostly everything they would need for a good home. Glenn made his way to the other door in the room, the door which led into a cellblock. When he saw no walkers moving freely around, he swung the door open and stepped inside. 

Glenn could now see that he was correct, some of the walkers would be stuck in their cells. But some of them seemed to have been put down, evident by the bullet holes and blood-splatters on the walls. It seemed that most of the walkers had been in the upper level of the cell block, whoever had done this had obviously been in a hurry. Grabbing the machete that was secured on his belt, Glenn made quick work of the walkers and made his way down to where his group was waiting. 

Currently, Daryl was dragging the _very_ dead bodies out of the cells, putting them into yet another pile. It was clear they needed a plan, preferably one that wouldn’t get anyone killed. That’s when Glenn thought back to his strategy with the walkers in the prison yard, and they could do the same in here. If they shut and locked themselves into the cells, they could get the walkers easily, and wouldn’t have to worry about the bars becoming weak like the fence because they were made out of solid metal. They could also have two shooters on the upper level, taking care with as many walkers possible and not have to worry about being attacked as they couldn't go up stairs.

When Glenn voiced this idea with the group, it was met with a positive response. They decided that Carol, Daryl, Maggie and Glenn would be on the lower level, taking care of the walkers using their knives or machetes. And Andrea and T-Dog would be on the upper-level, shooting. The first thing they did was have Andrea lock everyone in their cells, securing them from being bitten. And then, making sure T-Dog was ready, Andrea unlocked and opened the door that led to the rest of the prison. She then hauled-ass to get up to the top level where she met T-Dog.

They all then started shouting, trying to lure in as many walkers as they could. The walkers mainly came in twos, then three, then a group of ten showed up and so on. From what he could tell, they had been at this for a little over three hours. But Glenn wasn’t giving up until no more walkers can through. So that's what they did, yelling themselves hoarse. Getting as many as they could. Everyone’s face was covered in walker blood at this point, they were sweaty and gross but that didn’t stop them. 

Once Glenn lost his voice, he took the most solid he could find (a metal coffee cup) and started banging it on the bars. The echo of metal on metal, plus the screaming plus the shooting only brought more in. There had to have been over one hundred walkers on the floor when the trickle of walkers finally came to a halt. Glenn knew, however, that there were more in the prison. And he wouldn’t stop until he had cleared the whole damn thing.

Daryl shouted for Andre to go and lock the door which let the walkers in, and she did. After doing so, she pulled the piling up bodies away from the doors and unlocked the group from their cells. “This isn’t the end. I’m not letting anyone sleep in here until the whole thing is clear of both walkers _and_ people.” Glenn said, finality ringing in his voice. Daryl grunted out a sound that sounded like he agreed and the rest of the group nodded.

“Alright, we’re losing daylight. I want everyone to have a weapon ready, as well as a flashlight. We stay in formation, no matter if someone gets bit or not. Do not run, or we could all be put in danger. Me, Daryl and Maggie will lead the group. Andrea, Carol and T-Dog take the back.” Glenn spoke firmly. He knew that the group was being pushed, but he also knew that _they knew_ it had to be done, otherwise they could all end up as walker food one day. Unlocking the door Andrea had locked not long ago, the group started walking. The people in the back agreeing that two would walk backwards at all times while one person could go forwards.

It was unsurprising when they found the hallways surrounding cell block C empty, but that didn’t mean the whole place was. Glenn estimated that there were about another hundred or so walkers they’d have to plow through. And that meant securing another cell block. The group made their way through different rooms, killing off the five or so walkers that occupied nearly every closed room. And then they found the kitchen, which held people. People of which had no idea the apocalypse happened and people who were criminals.

Glenn could feel his gut twist at the looks some of the inmates gave the women and eyed their weapons. Glenn could also see Daryl glaring holes into the eyes of each and everyone one of the inmates. That is, except for the darker skinned burly man. Which surprised Glenn, he never thought stronger built men looked particularly trustworthy. “Daryl,” Glenn spoke quietly, motioning for Daryl to stand over by Glenn. “I don’t trust these guys, and we sure as hell can’t just let them loose outside, they’re not the forgive and forget type. I really don't want to say it-” Glenn said, before being cut off by Daryl. “They need to be disposed of, I agree. I don’t trust ‘em, and I sure as hell don’t want ‘em near our young kids.” Daryl added, his jaw set. Glenn nodded wearily. "Except for the big guy, he just... he doesn't act like the rest? You know?" Glenn asked, his voice trembling slightly. Daryl nodded, "Yeah, I know. Looks can be deceiving. Are we gonna leave him then?" Glenn shook his head 'yes' in response. He knew this was morally wrong in so many ways, but whatever these men had done to belong in here was also probably morally wrong in so many ways.

Glenn called the rest of the group over while Daryl kept an eye on the four men. “We’re going to kill these men.” Glenn deadpanned, looking for the horror to arise in the eyes of his group members, but it never came. “Good, if you weren’t going to do it, I was.” Carol bristled. Maggie let out a quiet 'yeah' to show her agreement with Carol. Andrea nodded as well, “As an ex-lawyer, that’s the kind of client you do a shitty job of defending because you _know_ they did something unspeakable.” Glenn looked over to T-Dog, who had been quiet the whole time. “T-Dog? I want to hear your input.” Glenn said, looking the man in the eyes. T-Dog looked at him, a firm look in his eyes, “I… I think I agree. I just never thought I’d be okay with killing people.” “I didn’t either. But it has to be done, and I’m sure as hell not letting them around our kids and soon-to-be-birthed baby.” Glenn finished. With a quick, knowing nod to Daryl and the rest of the group, they made quick work of the three men, leaving behind the big one as discussed. Glenn knew he’d be in moral distress later, but he now knew that his group would be safe, and that this food would last them a damn long time if used sparingly. “C’mon, we can talk later, we’re losing daylight.” Daryl grunting, falling back into formation as the group left the room. The bigger man, which they learnt went by the name _Oscar_ , following closely behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the original plan for Axel's character was for him to be a serial killer, and he was supposed to lead Beth out to the woods and kill her. Obviously the writers didn't use that plan in cannon, but that's what I went for this chapter, even if it wasn't stated. That's why Glenn and the others got such bad vibes from them. (I only liked Oscar so I kept him)


	7. Cutting Losses and Making Bonds

Rick was driving, the group on the road once again. Currently, Shane sat asleep in the passenger seat while Morgan and Duane were reading in the back seats. It amazed Rick how those two weren’t getting carsick, _maybe it was genetic_. Right now, Rick and his group were heading towards Fort Benning to see if there were any survivors. The chances were low, both Rick and Shane knew that, but that didn’t mean they weren’t going to try.

The drive was only about thirty minutes long, but in the end hadn’t been worth it. “Well fu-,” Shane cut himself off, remembering Duane was close by. “Well _damn_ , I guess that rules out Benning. I really thought it was going to be good.” Shane said, annoyed by the loss. Rick sighed, “Yeah, but we should’ve guessed it wasn’t going to work out. All those people in one place, some of them probably bitten? It wouldn’t have lasted.” Rick noted, thinking about the hundreds of people that had probably been stationed inside. If the growls and snarls where anything to go by, pretty much everyone had been turned.

“We could try clearing it out?” Shane said, although even _he_ sounded unsure about it. Morgan shook his head, “Nah, we’d be swarmed in minutes. We need a bigger group to clear that place out, even then it would take us days. Plus, I’m not a fan of having Duane go in there with all them walkers.” Rick nodded in agreement, it’d be the dumbest idea they’d ever make if they went in there with just the three of them. “I’m with Morgan on this one. It was worth a shot, but there’s no way in hell we’d be able to clear it out. Maybe if we get more people in our group, but even then it’s still high risk.” Rick spoke, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, then where do we go?” Duane questioned, looking upset. “We’ll just have to keep moving around, we won’t know which place is safe until we see it.” Rick spoke, the truth was nothing but soul-crushing. And as undesirable as it was, it was the truth. And everyone else in the group knew Rick was correct. So they piled back into the truck, now with Morgan and Duane in the front with Rick and Shane shoved into the back. And quite frankly, Rick felt trapped.

He felt horrible; he missed his family like a kid missed summer. But there was no way he could go back, he had been _exiled_. And for what? Defending himself? Of course Shane hadn't been right in the head, he had been off his rocker on _meth_. Rick, who had admittedly been trying to kill Shane with just his bare fist, had been doing it out of self-defense (but also anger). The man had been forced into a life-or-death situation, and Rick had _not_ been keen on the latter . But he wasn't angry at _Shane,_ either. No, because Rick knew he most likely would’ve acted the same way if it had been him in Shane’s position. And Rick also knew how bad Shane felt, and how much he was trying to make up for it. But his group, _his family?_ They didn’t try to help him, not even when he was bleeding from his face after being cut up by Shane in that field. Not when Rick was getting his strength back from being in a coma, no. They just stood there, trying to hide themselves from the disgusting truth. And the truth was that this is how the world is now. People will die, and people will kill. And you have to just have to **deal with it**. Rick shook his head, there was no way he was dealing with this now. He had more important things to deal with, like where they were going to find a safe home for Duane.

~~~~

For hours, Shane, Rick and Morgan analyzed the map. Trying to find at least a temporary spot to stay until they could find something more permanent. But there was always something wrong with the area; not enough supplies, too far from supplies, too open, large groups of people had been there pre-apocalypse or even the chance another group had taken that spot already. So the three men (four including Duane) stayed in the pickup they had parked on the side of the road for a while. It wasn’t ideal, but they would most likely have to sleep in the car tonight. And they sat, uninterrupted for a long while, aside from a few stray walkers. Until they heard footsteps too quick to be the undead, and Rick’s stomach did a flip.

Outside the car stood three people, all of which looked absolutely disheveled, which was pretty normal for the state of the world at the moment. The one thing that specifically caught Rick’s attention was the small child in the arms of the woman. The child seemed alright for the most part, most likely just uncomfortable and tired. “Please, help us. We have a child.” The woman pleaded, her voice slightly muffled by the glass of the windows. Everyone in the car was silent, all too confused to know what to do or say. Rick reached for the old hand crank, and cracked the window open slightly. “Why should we help you, huh? We have a child of our own.” Rick drawled. It’s not that he didn’t want to help the family, _of course he wanted to help_. But he was still all-too-weary from his past group.

The woman and two men looked at a loss for words, until one spoke up. “Realistically, you shouldn’t. In the middle of the apocalypse, people should be saving all their rations and ammunition for themselves. But we have a young child who desperately needs food and clean water. We- we’ve been giving a majority of our rations to him, but that won’t last. I... I don’t want to lose my son.” The man pleaded, tears welling up his eyes. And man, if Rick wasn't already broken from his familial situation, this would've shattered him.

Rick looked around at his own group, trying to find an answer in their eyes. Eventually, Rick did find an answer. And it was unanimous, “Alright, we’ll help you. But I want all your weapons on the ground, away from you. As I’ve said, we have a kid too. And right now, the world ain't full of the most trustworthy people.” Rick nodded, cracking the door of the truck open. The other group nodded, looking weary of Rick’s group as well. But they complied, laying out what few weapons they had. It was the usual, a few hunting knives, a few small handguns, and to Rick and everyone else’s surprise, **_a sword_**. Rick raised his eyebrow at that, but people had to work with what they found. “Now then, my name is Rick Grimes. What ‘bout y’all?” Rick asked. “My name is Mike, and he’s Terry.” One of the men said, of which Rick now knew as _Mike._ Rick looked over to the woman and her kid and she replied, “My name is Michonne. And this little peanut here is Andre.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun drinking game: take a shot every time i say 'exiled' in this fic


	8. 'Family' Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just some kinda-sorta filler from my sleep-deprived head

What Rick hadn’t expected to happen was Michonne’s group sitting with Rick’s by a fire, laughing cheerfully. “Wait a minute, you skinny dude were _cops_?” Michonne chuckled, pointing to Rick and Shane. Shane laughed, “Hey, I know you can’t tell beneath this shirt, but I am **ripped** from my _years_ as a deputy.” Rick shook his head at his friend's shenanigans, but was grateful for the happy atmosphere. “What about you Michonne, what were you?” Morgan asked, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. Michonne hid her face, a small blush creeping up her face. “I was… well I was a lawyer.” She spoke, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Wait a minute, so you laughed at me ‘an Shane ‘fer not lookin' like cops, but you were a _lawyer_? Of all the things, you sure don’t look like a lawyer.” Rick snorted, raising his brows at the woman. With her smaller frame and facial features, Rick thought she looked more like a model. “Well, we were all people of the law then, huh? Guess we’ve got that in common.” Shane said. Michonne nodded, looking cheerful. “When we went up to your car window earlier, we weren’t expecting y’all to be such good company.” Terry spoke, smiling down at the sleeping Andre in his arms. Morgan smiled at the man, “And we didn’t expect y’all to be such good _people_. Were you ever a part of a group?” Morgan questioned. Mike nodded in response, “Yeah, we had a group. But we left, Michonne said it wasn’t safe, and there wasn’t a chance in hell I was gonna stay there where my son could have been in danger.”

Rick, for what seemed like the thousandths time, was reminded of Carl. Rick knew he would’ve been the same way with his own son. Rick would do anything to protect his kid, and now he couldn’t. He didn’t even know if his son was still okay, if he was even still _alive_. Rick knew better than to have such little faith in Lori, but she had always been quite frail; not specifically someone sufficiently equipped to survive the apocalypse. Rick shook his head, trying to shake the dark thoughts out of his head. Apparently, while Rick had been stuck in his head, the conversation had kept carrying. And now he was faced with a question, “- What about you, Rick, did you ever have kids? Shane here said he wasn’t cut out to be a father, so he never bothered.” Rick smiled sadly at Terry before replying, “Yeah, yeah I have a kid. He’s, uh, he’s with his mom with a different group. We used to be with ‘em, until me ‘an Shane were booted out. I don’t know what he’s talking ‘bout though, Shane’s always been good with Carl.”

Mike, Terry and Michonne all collectively raised their eyebrows at that. Shane sighed, choosing to answer the obvious question for Rick’s sake. “Me ‘an Rick, we were kicked out for _fighting_. I was stupid, I um, I had taken some **hard** drugs, in…. In hopes to feel somthin' other than overwhelmed. Apparently, I’m a shitty druggie, because I ended up trying to kill Rick over a rough patch, because I had gotten with his wife. Although I did think he was dead, I still understand _why_ he was _upset_. But that resulted in Rick defending himself and trying to kill _me_. So basically, I made horrible, stupid decisions, and it cost Rick his family. Which I am still trying to make up for, by the way.” Shane let out, looking stoic. Rick looked at his friend, and wow, it sounded horrible when it was said _out loud_ in front of _other people_. 

But at the end of the day, Rick had forgiven Shane. Shane had recognized his mistake, and it was obvious the man was running himself into the ground to make up for it. Taking all-night-long watches, sharing as many rations of his as he could with others, prioritizing the group over himself; basically doing anything and everything he could do to show how sorry he was. “Well damn.” Michonne muttered at the same time Mike and Terry said ‘The fuck?’ Rick let out a breathy chuckle, “Don’t worry, we're not going to try and kill anyone right now. I know that it sounds like a _mess_ , and... it was. But trust me, it sounds worse out loud than what actually happened.” And truthfully, it did. They hadn’t known about Rick’s coma, Lori’s baby most likely being Shane’s, Randall’s threats and their ex-groups overall incompetence. 

“Quite frankly, you both don’t seem like the killin’ type.” Mike said, analyzing Rick and Shane’s fire-illuminated faces. Morgan chuckled lightly, “Yeah, they’re not. On the first day I met Shane, he saved my boy from a walker. Although on the first day I met Rick he had to be knocked unconscious with a shovel because he was so disoriented. Apparently, he had woken up from a coma, a week or so after the whole walker thing started.” Morgan laughed. Rick looked away, the tips of his ears going red from the sudden attention. “How the hell did you not die? Also how the hell did you go into a coma in the first place?” Michonne laughed. “I was shot, while I was _bein’ a cop._ ” Rick laughed, referencing back from Michonne’s jabs earlier. The woman snorted, and shoved another spoon-full of soup into her mouth.

~~~~

Instead of going their separate ways, Michonne, Terry and Mike (and of course Andre) ended up joining Rick’s little ragtag gang. It made him feel happy, but not _quite_ washing the sadness of his family away. Rick had informed Michonne, who seemed to be the leader of her little part of their now-conjoined group, that he had no plan of where to go. But Michonne had joined anyway, claiming it would be good to travel with survival-competent people. And it didn’t take long for her to show her worth either. 

Since their group had gotten so big, Shane, Rick and Michonne had volunteered to sit in the bed of the truck while driving. And not even ten minutes after being on the road, a group of walkers showed up. The group themselves couldn’t’ve been bigger than a dozen, but it was well on it’s way to becoming a herd. Before Rick could even get his gun out, Michonne was making quick work of the walkers, slicing and slashing the heads off, leaving pieces of rotted brain on the asphalt. It was disgusting, definitely, but also quite impressive. And it ensured Rick’s own brain that he had made the right decision in letting her group stay.

Moving again, Shane decided to speak up, “Damn woman, I didn’t know lawyers were so good with swords.” Michonne smiled lightly, “Yeah, well, we’re all victims of our circumstances, aren’t we?” And that was when Shane knew he'd become good friends with this woman..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I know proper grammar, I just don't proof-read that well. (and its like 3am so right now i really don't know grammar)


	10. a brief intermission (a/n)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello, its me again after a 50 year break. some news & no, im not orphaning this work.

**this whole thing is an authors note so feel free to skip. basically, im moving houses again and life is chaotic so i won't be updating this for a while. plus i've lost a bit of interest in this fic but not the fandom, so i may post a different twd fic or a fic from a completely different fandom. but dont worry THIS FIC IS NOT BEING ORPHANED. so yeah, thanks for reading.**


	11. This Isn’t a Chapter x2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think I’ve found my motivation again.

Hello my lovely readers! If you still have this fic bookmarked, then I thank you. Seeing as new episodes of TWD are being released again, I think I’ve found my motivation one more. This isn’t a promise, but _maybe_ expect **new chapters for this fic in the next month or two**. ❤️


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